


and everything you touch just feels like yours to me

by FullmetalChords, mother_hearted



Series: Toki and Meg's Faerghus Husbands AU [9]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, Established Relationship, King Dimitri, M/M, Married Couple, No War AU, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Roleplay, Top Claude von Riegan, Vacation, consort Claude, finally the "husbands" part of this verse name comes into play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:08:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26070913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FullmetalChords/pseuds/FullmetalChords, https://archiveofourown.org/users/mother_hearted/pseuds/mother_hearted
Summary: He recognizes he needs it, that he wants it. To say he deserves it… he can’t. His inner thoughts are at odds with Claude’s concerned words. Dimitri bites the inside of his cheek and says nothing. Unable to refute him. This problem deep inside of him...There is no map or guide that will help him handle it.He must learn to do it himself.At least now, he is no longer alone.--King Dimitri and Prince-Consort Claude have finally gotten some time away from their duties, one year into their marriage. The battle to live for themselves is never over... but it's easier with one another's support.Co-written between mother_hearted and FullmetalChords!
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Claude von Riegan
Series: Toki and Meg's Faerghus Husbands AU [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1881556
Comments: 5
Kudos: 54





	and everything you touch just feels like yours to me

**Author's Note:**

> DimiclaudeBdayWeek2020 is over... but we had one last gift to share with the fandom before we play ourselves out. :)
> 
> Once again, some time has passed since the last installment in this thread; it's been a little over a year now since Claude and Dimitri got married. 
> 
> As always, Dimitri is portrayed by the brilliant, evocative writer mother_hearted, and Claude is written by me, FullmetalChords. 
> 
> For those of you that shared this journey with us... thank you so much!!

The wolf pelt spread in front of the hearth reminds Dimitri of his father. Of their first hunt together, where Dimitri was just a boy, still years away from his maiden battle. In the chilly evening, Lambert took the education from Dimitri’s books and with calloused hands, molded them into memories. Though he still has the knife he learned to skin his first hide with, the pelt from the mountain cat was buried in Lambert’s grave with several other belongings in lieu of his body. As a boy, he wanted to believe the pelt would give his father’s spirit comfort as he journeyed to reunite with his mother… 

His memories still bring on heartache but they don’t threaten to consume him like before. Becoming more like embers than roaring flames, Dimitri is able to separate the memory of his father with the ghoul that haunts him in his nightmares, and the hallucinations that continue to creep up on him. In his first year as King, it’s impossible not to think of his father. Dimitri knows for his entire reign he will be compared to him but he cannot let himself fall into the trap of trying to become him.

The choices Lambert would make and the choices Dimitri will make won’t always be the same. Father and son but they are too different, have always been. His father was both a kind and harsh teacher, whose responsibility was to prepare Dimitri for a life full of burden. A role that didn’t allow him to be weak. 

Not all of the memories he’s shared this weekend with Claude have been pleasant… but they are as layered as the pastries they ate during breakfast. Dimitri has been wounded by his father, by his motherland, but he has been loved too, inspired to be the king he’s become and the devout husband for the man he cherishes above all else.

Dimitri is only reminiscing because he is comfortable, safe and relaxed for the first time in months. He has stopped grumbling over his aide going over his head, booking them an additional night’s stay. Instead, he’s taken the initiative to enjoy his time with Claude to the fullest. They’ve enjoyed sitting in the sauna together, playing board games, feeding each other in bed. Making love in front of the fire, Claude’s back kept warm by the pelt. His front kept warm with Dimitri stretched out on top of him. 

_My stubbornness has kept you from receiving the rest you needed for far too long, darling…_ He really is a fool. Even more so, when he realizes throughout the day he is - waiting. Almost anticipating something to come up, another burden to drop itself in his lap. A migraine or a letter from his office, urging him to come back. It’s rare for his mind to be so quiet and clear. It makes him uneasy. 

There are moments where he and Claude are simply talking and Dimitri cannot help but want to look over his shoulder, searching for a specter who will drag him back into the fog. Raised to study and work, he is still catching up on - play. On silliness. On the twinkle and mischief of his husband’s eyes that encourage Dimitri to yes, and him. Dimitri does not want to let him down. 

He is still getting acquainted with what it means to feel… at ease.

If Claude has any regrets about this weekend, it is taking so long to give his husband a proper vacation. 

He truly needs to thank Dimitri’s aide for their “mistake” in booking them an extra night in this mountain cabin. It’s cozy - remote enough to keep them both removed from their daily concerns while not so far that it will take them too long to journey back to Fhirdiad. A fire has been roaring all weekend, keeping them both warm while the weather outside threatens a fresh layer of snowfall. 

This retreat has been wonderful. Not only have he and Dimitri both desperately needed the time to reconnect and relax with one another, but he has gotten to know even more about Dimitri during this weekend. Hear stories of his youth, his memories of Lambert. Letting Claude get to know, in some small way, the man he will never meet, who formed his husband into the king he loves today. 

Still… He wishes he could drive the shadows out of Dimitri’s gaze. The restlessness he senses from him when they are simply… resting. Take away his guilt for taking any time for himself, away from his duties and his people. 

He stretches on the sofa before the fire, his back clicking. Dimitri at his side reading… or at the very least, pretending to read. 

“Mmm, Dima,” he hums. It’s late in the afternoon, too early for supper yet, shadows stretching over the wolfskin rug that Claude has become… intimately acquainted with this weekend. “I can’t believe it’s already our last night here… Can we write to Sylvain, ask if we can stay up here forever?”

He loops his arm through Dimitri’s, flashing him the puppy-dog eyes his husband is usually so weak for. Still, he isn’t being serious. Claude would go stir-crazy cooped up here forever with no purpose, and he knows Dimitri is much the same. 

But even so… being here reminds him of the cabin they’d rented together during the millennium festival, nearly two years ago now. A honeymoon of sorts, although they’d stayed there around the time of their official engagement. It had been lovely to exist in that bubble with no responsibilities, no obligations besides the ones they were choosing to make to each other… It’s been lovely to revisit the same feeling now, even if only for a weekend. 

Dimitri has reread the same page for the past ten minutes, his book failing to keep his interest. He would have been better off simply sitting in front of the fire, listening to it pop and crackle, so it’s with quiet relief he turns to Claude. Eager to give him his attention, even if he feels momentarily blindsided by his infamous puppy dog eyes. Goddess, save him. Joking or not, Dimitri can’t help the part of himself that wants to bend over backwards for him. Has been felled in the past by his sweet minx’s trickery. As boys he let Claude get out of a practice bout with his flirting. Allowed himself that rare night in the knight’s hall to be swept up in kisses on the couch, nearly getting caught by Alois. 

The memory makes him laugh now. Able to see how foolish and small his worries were at the time. In the face of his reality, his ham of a husband, Dimitri closes his book and quirks his lips. “Is that so? I fear what he would ask for in exchange... “ He laughs softly. Leaning in to Claude’s side warmly. “And I fear the pots your hands would find themselves in once you grew too idle.” Yes, it has been awhile since they were boys and Claude’s mischief prompted some truly absurd mysteries in the Monastery, but Claude has only gotten smarter since, more skillful.

Dimitri has always known better than to underestimate him. 

His expression shifts, one of… love tinged with guilt. “But to hear you joke about such a thing… It pleases me. I love to see you happy. I’m so glad you are enjoying yourself. I’m sorry it took us so long to come here and… be.”

Be together. Be themselves. But therein lies the problem. Dimitri is still discovering himself, still learning how to be comfortable with himself. 

...it hurts, knowing he has made Claude suffer with him. 

“You have taught me a great deal, this weekend, on how to relax. I didn’t realize how much help I still need.”

"I know." He delicately brushes Dimitri's bangs out of his eyes, more out of care than anything else. "You work so hard, darling. I know it's because of how much you love your homeland and your people, but." He settles against him, their arms still linked together. "I worry, sometimes, that you allow yourself too few comforts. That you won't acknowledge how much you deserve them, for how hard you work."

It is an old network for Dimitri, an old hurt, one that Claude cannot resolve for him. He shudders to think what might have happened to his beloved had he been left alone, piled on with endless responsibilities and given no space from the voices that still plague him.

He continues playing with the ends of Dimitri's hair, his mind working feverishly.

"Last night you got to take care of me," he says, and grins up at him as he remembers the hours of delights he'd been pampered with. A full-body massage followed by several luxurious bouts of lovemaking with his tender husband. "I think…" He looks up, pretending to think. "Yes. I think tonight it's your turn."

He takes Dimitri's book, setting it on the coffee table.

"And in order to help you relax," he offers, the corners of his mouth quirking upwards, "I think we might need to… not be ourselves, tonight." To set down their respective burdens as king and consort so Dimitri might fully enjoy a night of freedom. 

It’s been acknowledged it is easier for Dimitri to care for Claude, to set his own needs aside without being conscious of it. He has come a long way, forced to learn how to be on his own during their five years apart. No longer the boy who hated himself, who tried to drown out his softness with misery - and yet, he never thinks to pamper or congratulate himself. He may be highborn, a noble used to luxury but it’s hard for him to look at this weekend and think he deserves it.

He recognizes he needs it, that he wants it. To say he deserves it… he can’t. His inner thoughts are at odds with Claude’s concerned words. Dimitri bites the inside of his cheek and says nothing. Unable to refute him. This problem deep inside of him...

There is no map or guide that will help him handle it.

He must learn to do it himself. 

At least now, he is no longer alone. 

His heart aches tender and fond, watching Claude recall their night together. Aches further, when he tells Dimitri he wishes to spoil him in return. He bites back the impulse to deflect it, knowing his husband’s touch is something he desperately craves too. Impulsively, decisively tells himself if Claude is offering it, then Dimitri is worthy. It is something he deserves. 

“Do you mean play pretend?” It’s something they’ve done before, as boys, and occasionally in their marriage bed. Excitement tingles in his belly and a faint pink dusts his cheeks. 

Claude's eyes sparkle as he looks up at Dimitri, delighted he understands. 

"Exactly." He grins, bouncing a little on the sofa. Happy and relaxed enough to allow himself this moment of childish giddiness. 

"Ah, it's been too long. Shall I be the prince's admirer again? The houseservant caught stealing from the king?" Both games they've played before and enjoyed… Claude tilts his head to study Dimitri. Spy the spark of interest in his husband's eye and attempt to follow it. Notices his reticence at Claude's suggestions and knows he needs a new strategy.

"No," he decides. "No, you need a little break from being king tonight. Maybe…"

He gets an idea and can't help but smile, lacing his fingers through Dimitri's and bending down to kiss his knuckles.

"Do you remember the little stories I used to write for you while we were apart? Which one was your favorite?"

Claude’s excitement is contagious, leaving Dimitri feeling giddy too. Teeth digging into his bottom lip as his breath catches. Oh, well. He. Ah. Dimitri looks away flustered. “Of course, I remember. All of your letters I have bound into my books…” It embarrassed Claude at first, to know Dimitri went so far, but he got over it. Enough to tease, referencing the erotic tales he penned for Dimitri. Filled with tropes and indulgences that made his cock practically weep.

“Do you mean to play out one of them with me?” He asks bashfully, looking at Claude from under pale lashes. “I… am interested.” Obviously. He gives a squeeze with his hands. “If it is not too indulgent…” he trails off, missing the point. 

Claude _wants_ to indulge him but as always Dimitri is still learning to consider that. 

He blooms rose red after a long moment, losing himself to Claude’s adoring expression, and he’s speaking without realizing it.

“The rakishly handsome rogue who - breaks into my room and.” Dimitri swallows, voice coming out thick. “Helps himself to my virtue.”

Color floods Claude's cheeks, too, remembering exactly which tale Dimitri is referencing. One he'd clumsily tried to reference the night he visited Dimitri, climbing in through his window to dip him low and sweep him into a kiss…

"Oh…" He feels overwhelmed and heated already by Dimitri's request, by his reaction. "I did enjoy that one." It had fueled him, too, in the long years they had spent apart. "Sounds wonderful. Been a while since I got to really have my way with you, mm…"

He turns to fully face Dimitri on the couch, holding onto both of his hands.

"I love it. Love you." He grins at him, not able to contain his affection or his blush. "How do you, ah… want me to steal your virtue then, sweetness?" Claude loves surprising Dimitri, but knows well that he does not always take well to being surprised or ravished during little games like these. Particularly if Dimitri is going to play the reluctant, virginal prince that he has never been in reality.

“I love you, too. My beloved.” Dimitri swallows again, nervous excitement buzzing around inside of him. “I have some ideas, of course… but admittedly, I don’t know how they’ll translate into reality. We used the color system once before, I’d like to use it again. In case something is not as enjoyable as I imagined.” Red for stop. Yellow to slow down and reassess. 

He takes comfort in the vibrant blush on Claude’s face, how it matches his own. How Claude has always made exploring Dimitri’s taste so easy… and even better, that he enjoys playing the roles Dimitri asks of him too.

“What I would like…” At least, he thinks. “I am settled into bed for the evening. I have not put out my candles. I am - surprised by a stranger. I feel… threatened by you but captivated too, by your charm and charisma.” He flushes darker as he speaks, trying to pick his words carefully. “I do not think you violate me, rather… I am reluctant at first but you warm me and I.”

He laughs, embarrassed, chin ducking down to his chest. Claude knows how much Dimitri loves to be taken, to feel small in his strong arms, sure. This fantasy is different, stepping more firmly into the role of a damsel who does not dig in his heels or take control of the situation as he sees fit. “I fall under the spell your pleasure brings me. I let you do whatever you want as you --” He shivers tellingly. “-- have your way with me.”

“What do you think? Is that all right?” Is there something Claude is concerned about, needs to change? Dimitri’s tone and eyes convey his unspoken questions. Eager, yes, but also considerate. 

Claude is already delighted by the picture Dimitri's words paint. And he would happily go along with it exactly as-is, but…

"I have a few suggestions… Tweaks, if you like." He grins at Dimitri to reassure him. "First of all, it's far too early to head to bed. Twilight's hardly begun to fall outside." It's not full sunlight but it can hardly be called evening, either. "So it doesn't make sense for you to be in bed just yet…"

His grin widens, mischievous and excited.

"What if I… surprised you right here, while you're reading? Deflowered you right where you recline on the sofa…" He knows how old-fashioned his husband can be about sex. Most of what they've done together has been in their bed under the cover of nighttime; the night before where Claude had been taken on the floor was a rare occurrence in itself for both the position they'd taken and the location. 

But if they are going to play, Claude thinks he might as well show Dimitri that there are other places they can enjoy one another.

"We can move to the bed partway through if the sofa is too uncomfortable," he adds reasonably, mindful of his husband's joints. "But I'd like to start...right here." And he pats the plush cushions of the sofa, feeling their velvet softness. "What do you think?"

They’re married and have explored every inch of each other’s bodies but hearing Claude talk about deflowering him in their sitting area… Dimitri can’t help his embarrassment, freshening up his blush. It’s hypocritical of him, when he took Claude by the fire the other night, but that atmosphere had felt intimate, private. 

This feels, so… naughty. But wonderfully so, enough for him to laugh at himself and find his voice to agree. “I’d like to try, at least for the start. I cannot promise my back will cooperate.” Everyone treats height like gold but no one speaks of the backaches from ill fitting furniture and unfortunate posture. 

Oh well. Claude will keep his ears open if Dimitri finds himself too uncomfortable. 

There is… one more thing he needs to say. “And I know you have seen my body in the daytime but…” He squeezes Claude’s hands, shy eyes peeking out from under his bangs. “We have never made love in the daylight before. The thought excites me but it also makes me nervous.” 

"I understand." He is well acquainted with Dimitri's body image issues after years of being with him, more finessed at handling them than he was as a gawking teenager, staring at his lover when stumbling across him in the bath. Has provided endless reassurances just to get Dimitri where he is today.

He reaches, once more, to brush Dimitri's bangs out of his eyes, cupping his face with a loving hand.

"You know what to tell me if your thoughts become too loud." In case Claude needs to slow down or stop. "I will not be upset if you feel the need to cover yourself up in the light of day, or for us to stop altogether. But…"

He grins again, more bashful than before.

"Is it wrong for me to say that getting to see all of you, make love to you in the sunlight… That that thought excites me most of all?" To be able to fully see and appreciate his husband's beauty. To show him how much he is adored, on the outside as well as in. 

Being understood so easily... Dimitri can't meet Claude's eye even as leans into his hand. In this moment he feels graceless, like a boar trampling over saplings in fields. It doesn't erase his relief from having a partner who knows why this is difficult for him. Claude says everything Dimitri needs to push away the anxieties creeping in.

"...It is not wrong." 

He takes a breath before meeting Claude's eyes again. 

"It is something I want too." 

In spite of his fears. 

"Thank you, dearest. I really am excited to try." His good eye shines bright with anticipation. "My acting has not improved much," he murmurs this with good humor, purposefully moving forward, not letting himself dwell. Acting playful like he only can with Claude. "I may have to lift some lines from my books."

"I look forward to it." He loves getting to see Dimitri's cheesier side, to see him let himself be silly. "You truly are a dear… Whatever feels natural to you, sweetheart, I know I'll love it."

He wants to lean in for a kiss, and is actually halfway there before he stops himself, moving back again.

"Hm, no." He lays a finger on Dimitri's lips. "The rogue shall have to wait before stealing a kiss from the handsome prince." Tosses Dimitri a cheeky little wink. "We should get ready, don't you think? Allow me a few minutes to change into something more… suitable." His current clothes are little more than pajamas, a loose tunic atop shalwar kameez. He should get back into his traveling clothes, at the very least.

Dimitri leans in too, only for Claude's finger to greet his lips. His reasoning clears his confusion right up.

"Oh...!" Of course, Claude would never give a half-hearted performance. Whatever transformation he takes will be one that takes Dimitri's needs into consideration. Ah, it's hard not to bounce in his seat. Excitement making him forget for a brief moment he is a king, a soldier. Instead he gets to be Claude's husband playing bedroom -- sitting room -- games. 

"In that case, I will need ten minutes to wash up." 

Perhaps a slight change of clothes is in order for him too. 

"Let's separate and I will meet you back here? I will be reading like we discussed. I only ask when you come back to the room, you tell me when we’re starting before slipping into character." It's important Dimitri knows it's Claude in the room with him, especially if he comes up from behind him.

Claude doesn’t kiss him when they part but his fingertips brush teasingly along Dimitri's jaw line. Mm... He tries to keep his washing up short without letting his hands wander or linger, wants to start cool so Claude can warm this reluctant prince up properly. He dresses down a bit more, leaves his linen shirt unbuttoned and completely open. Wears his trousers without laces. Has an idle thought of shocking Claude by sitting on their sofa completely nude but knows he doesn't have the guts, pushes it aside where his other whimsical thoughts live.

When he pads back to the couch and the warmth of the fire, his nerves briefly return. 

_It's all right,_ he reminds himself. _We are only playing and Claude will take care of me…_

He picks his book back up and pretends to read, heart beginning to pound in his chest. 

Claude has to rummage through his traveling trunk to find the articles of clothing he’d envisioned: a loose linen shirt with the top two buttons undone, a simple waistcoat, some rather high-waisted trousers. Boots that come up to his knees, suitable for riding. He has to glance in the mirror, raking his hair back from his face, tousling it artfully, wanting to - complete the fantasy for his husband. 

Finally, from the foyer, he turns, biting back his excitement, taking a few confident strides toward the sitting room before…

Hmm. No. There’s another way he can go about this. 

He does step through the doorway a moment or so later, covering his eyes with one hand so he won’t see Dimitri. Wanting to be surprised by how his husband has chosen to present himself for their little game. 

“Not yet,” he says, facing in the direction of the sofa where he’d last seen Dimitri. “I have to do something first. But when I come back into the room, we’re going to start. Are you ready?”

Dimitri makes a sound of acquiescence from somewhere across the room, and, satisfied, Claude turns toward the window, undoing the latch and opening it an inch or so. 

“There. I’ll be back soon, dearest.” He turns to go, but then stops in his tracks. “Oh!” Turns back in Dimitri’s direction, shielding his eyes once again. “Make sure you have the oil stashed nearby. Okay. Um. See you in a bit.”

And he leaves the room without waiting for a reply, walking across the foyer and through the cabin’s front door, shutting it behind him. 

Dimitri sits on the couch for a moment after watching Claude leave. Curious. He tries to stifle his instincts to guess what his plan may be, reminding himself that the surprise will be a part of their fun. And Claude is always so good to Dimitri… Mm. He gets up to fetch their oil before it is too late, leaving their glass jar on the lower shelf of their coffee table. It’s odd to see it there… but maybe he can leave it as this prince’s particular habits.

Picking up his book and reseating himself, he pushes back his loose hair so it sits behind his ears. Cannot read leisurely with it in the way. The character he is playing… He will not be a soldier. Dimitri may hear Claude and be alerted to his schemes but he will pretend otherwise. 

Pretend to be a soft, naive prince on holiday who doesn’t know the erotic encounter in his near future. Perhaps a prince who craves excitement… but has never had the opportunity to find it.

He smiles at himself, feeling silly and free. Claude looked so handsome, and goddess above, Dimitri already craves him.

“Settle down,” he murmurs, chiding himself. Flipping his page as he settles deeper into soft velvet cushions. 

Claude is quick to circle around the cabin once he leaves, finding the window he had left ajar. Certainly he could have simply entered through the doorway and begun their scene back there, but… Well, he's got a little theatricality in him that he's not about to conceal, especially not for the one he loves.

There are a great number of logs on this side of the house, many of them un-split, and he has to turn one of the taller ones on its end so he might reach the window easily, without straining himself. As he reaches to slide the window open further from the outside, he starts crafting the beginning of his story: a rogue, perhaps some sort of dashing gentleman thief, chasing rumors of the kingdom of Faerghus's hidden jewel all the way out here in the mountains, about to find his quarry at last…

The window finally opens wide enough to accommodate him, Claude hoists himself up, sliding through it with a fluidity honed into his body through a lifetime of training. Hits the floor with little sound and straightens to find…

Oh. Dimitri is breathtaking, reading alone by the fire, his shirt - entirely unbuttoned. Claude cannot help how his mouth waters at the sight of him, how he manages to appear innocent and unassuming despite his hulking form, his body covered in scars.

Ah. Right. The gentleman thief has come calling.

"Well." He pitches his voice the slightest bit lower, part of his character. "I came here seeking treasure… Looks like I've found something far better."

And he lets his eyes lasciviously rake over every inch of Dimitri's body. 

He misses the sound of the window being opened but senses the moment Claude has re-entered the room. It shows when his body shifts in attention, something impossible to turn off after years of training. But Dimitri is committed to his act and pretends to be none the wiser, head flinging up in shock when Claude speaks. 

“Who…!”

Acting against all his instincts, he remains seated on the couch. Drops the book from his hands to clumsily try and cover himself, pull his open shirt together to cover his bosom. With the poor job he does, it should be clear Dimitri is only playing, not actually self-conscious. 

With no plan on what to say, he wings it. “What do you want? If it is treasure I have nothing, I...” And Dimitri lets himself properly look over Claude in return. No, the - mysterious rogue. At how… easy he is to look at. 

Oh. 

His face does not hide his surprise, quieter this time, caught off guard by his improper attraction to the man who threatens him but also… thrills him. 

"Ah, hold!" He holds up his hands, a grin flickering over his face at Dimitri's reaction before he slides back into character.

"Peace, good sir. I mean you no harm. I… here." The gentleman thief spies a cloak hanging from a hook on the wall - Claude's own cloak - and he takes it, offering it by one hand to the young lordling on the sofa if he wishes to preserve his modesty.

"It seems my information was faulty… Hmm, but I've come all the way into the mountains. I don't suppose you'd be able to help me, milord?" Throws him a flirtatious look, not missing the blush on the prince's cheeks for a second.

He shakes his head at the offering of his cloak, eyeing the handsome rogue warily. “Help you…?” Ah, this is fun already. Dimitri feels his giddiness threaten to overtake him. He stamps it down with another shake of his head. “This is no den of riches.” Lifts his chin up, an illusion of power brought on by a young prince’s station. “If you turn around and leave now, I will let you walk away without consequence.”

Bartering, like he has any power in this situation. Heat crackling back to his face when he catches the way he is being so perversely surveyed. 

“You know I am not… gold or gemstones, so why do you look at me so intently?”

"Are you not?" He raises an eyebrow, unable to hide his smirk. "Forgive me. I must have been fooled by the golden shade of your hair. Your eyes, shining like sapphire and flint." 

He does not wait for an invitation, instead settling himself onto the sofa on the opposite end from the prince.

"So tell me. Why is someone as lovely as yourself all alone out here, then? Right where I was told I would find the crown jewel of Faerghus…" He catches Dimitri's eye meaningfully, hoping he understands. Enjoying the sparks he can already feel flying between them.

He can only gape when Claude takes his seat. Exposing his wariness further when he shuffles to the other end of the sofa. Afraid, perhaps, the situation will escalate if he stands. That there will be a chase or a scuffle. Foolishly, he is also drawn in by the gentleman thief’s smooth words...

Behaving not like a man of the north covered in scars but a sweet face youth who has depended on others his entire life, Dimitri continues to expose his hand. 

“You do not know that I am - alone.” His delivery loses strength when his good eye catches the open collar of the thief, the tease of his chest. How - scandalous that triangle of flesh is. A view he has only read about, never properly seen for himself. Too minded, too locked up.

It is more liberating to act timid than he believed, and his teeth dig into his bottom lip, letting Claude know he is well and truly enjoying himself.

He's never seen Dimitri like this. He was never the bashful one when growing up: perhaps a little reticent at times, but always the stubborn, brash one when it came to flirtation, to opening up their hearts. 

But this blushing maid act, the way he bites his lip as though to hide his attraction… It's so alluring on him.

He tilts his head, considering Dimitri's question. "I suppose not." Tips his head back again to catch Dimitri's gaze with his. "But it's a risk I'll have to take."

He sits on the sofa, exactly where he had before they'd begun their game.

"You can call me Claude." He winks at the prince. "Do you have a name, darling?"

Dimitri stifles a smile at that cheeky wink. Ugh. It’s terrible, how easy he is when he’s not even pretending. 

All the more of an excuse to turn his head away, another mistake Dimitri could never afford to make. His fingers release their grip on his shirt, hands falling to his lap to rest one on top the other. 

“Claude,” he says. Testing the name out on his tongue. 

“Do you intend to harm me?” He peeks at Claude out of the corner of his eye. Can’t resist playing hard to get a little bit, refusing to give his name right away.

"Of course not." His eyes fall onto Dimitri's hands, the way they rest in his lap, but he won't reach for one, not just yet. Eyes drift back to the prince's as he adds, "I would sooner destroy a masterpiece." 

He smiles, buttery, leaning in just a little more.

"I'd like to know what to call the man who's captivated me so."

“Ah,” the noise slips out of him naturally. Claude’s smile is growing sweeter and Dimitri grows warmer as a result. Fingers fidget in his lap as he thinks, fondly recalls his favorite details from his stories, and decides his next move.

“You may call me Dimitri if...”

He holds out a hand for Claude to take. With his wrist bent, it transforms his strong hand into something softer. His hand hangs delicately, waiting to be properly cradled. “You can show me how gently you treat a masterpiece.” 

He doesn’t enjoy referring to himself in such a fashion, no, but it works for the role. 

"Dimitri," he murmurs, as though he's never heard the name before, as though it isn't the prayer that lives on his lips every hour of every day. He says the name like butter, like silk, and carefully takes the hand Dimitri offers before bringing it delicately to his lips, brushing across the back as light as a whisper.

"I would certainly like nothing better than to… entertain you." He moves an inch closer, only an inch. "I take it we won't be interrupted? I would love to get to know you better in private." Honeyed words to help entice this shy prince.

Hhhn. 

Dimitri is pleasantly dazed. Quietly marveling at how such simple play is already dragging him under. The mood between them is warm and full of promise. 

He lets slip, “I came here alone on holiday.” Only to catch himself too late. He tries to pull his hand back to his lap after spooking himself. 

“I have not formally invited you, I…” He trails off, flustered. Yet his tone makes it sound like he’s speaking up because he should, no strong will in his words. “This is improper.” 

Dimitri looks at Claude from under pale lashes, to convey shyness yes, but also a plea. For Claude to be a little pushy, to convince the shy prince it’s time to be honest about the eyes he keeps making at his unexpected visitor. 

He understands where Dimitri is trying to lead them, and swiftly meets Dimitri where he is.

"You say this is improper." Inches ever closer on the sofa, close enough to brush Dimitri's face with his fingertips. "And yet you cannot keep your eyes off me. Have not moved away from me." He grins, a cheeky, lopsided thing.

"Could it be that, deep down, you want a scoundrel like me to steal you away? To liven up your solitary little holiday?" He chuckles, low. "You minx." A word Dimitri generally applies to him… He's curious to see how he'll react to having the tables turned.

Hell’s bells.

A little jolt runs down his spine at being called a minx. In any other situation it would be ill-fitting, a joke. Dimitri’s face is too honest, why he could never be a performer, with how the color runs down his cheeks to his neck. Pink for pleasure, for feeling powerful teasing a dangerous man. 

“Could you?” It’s all right, to be a little eager, isn’t it? How can he not be, in the face of this man…

His body language opens up, turning hopeful when he leans into Claude, close enough to take as an invitation. His lips curve into a smile he cannot help. “I’m not convinced.” Says the spoiled prince who doesn’t want to take responsibility for the feelings keeping his belly warm. 

"Really." A drawl, lips curling to match Dimitri's. "That blush on your cheeks says otherwise." Making this so-called innocent prince take responsibility for trying to keep this rogue on a string. 

"Look at you." His voice goes hushed as his eyes wander Dimitri's body once more. "Far from your chaperones, laid out on your chaise half-undressed. If I didn't know better…" He chuckles again. "If it weren't so _improper._ Perhaps you were hoping to have a little adventure on your lonely holiday. A scoundrel like me, coming along to show you something new."

He reaches to press the pad of his thumb to Dimitri's bottom lip. So forward… drawing this out for them both, making Claude grin in anticipation.

"Something your guardians would surely never permit."

Silly. This is so blissfully silly, and yet Dimitri shudders under those words, his eyes lowering to look at the thumb teasing his bottom lip. Ugh. It’s so hard not to take hold of Claude, bring him close like he craves. Has to force himself to take a breath, an entirely too loud one, as he struggles to figure out how to tempt without being too bold.

He thinks to his husband for inspiration, a master tease and flirt, and how he wields the smallest moments to rile Dimitri from cold to hot. 

His top lip gently presses over the tip of Claude’s thumb, catching it in a whisper of a kiss.

“Never,” he agrees. 

Not admitting it makes him want it all the more. This _adventure_ with a stranger who thrills him. But, Dimitri can only take so much suspense before forgetting himself. He leans in a bit more, letting his shirt slip open to reveal more tempting skin. 

“It’s a shame they aren’t here to stop you.”

He sees what his husband is doing. Using Claude's usual tricks against him, flashing skin for the sole purpose of driving Claude wild. Wanting so badly to touch him, to run his lips along his flesh, to taste his neck -- 

Somehow, holding back, drawing this out, makes Dimitri even more enticing than he usually is. And Dimitri is already pretty damn enticing.

"Indeed." The rogue is still touching the prince's lip, the tip burning where he'd kissed it. "Such a shame, leaving someone as lovely as you all alone. You must have been terribly lonely."

He leans in and now just their noses are brushing, barely, Claude feeling the heat of Dimitri's face before he ever feels his skin.

"Shall I warm you, then, with my company?"

“You’re going to make me say it.” It slips out, huffy, just like Dimitri. Can’t help himself because for all he enjoys feeling helpless and small in Claude’s arms, he’s too used to taking action, too bold to wait and rile Claude properly. He’s not ready to give up his role, having too much fun, all too excited for the part that comes next, where Claude is in control and he is just a pliant, willing prince who doesn’t know any better.

He tries to hold himself back a little, flirt in a way that doesn’t come naturally to him. 

Brushing their noses together, he whispers, “Please. Please debauch me.” 

He exhales with an audible shiver. Corners of his mouth quirking up as he hears a little of Dimitri's usual brash stubbornness… but no. Claude fights to remain in character, to keep the game intact for as long as both can stand it.

"Milord," he breathes, the word ghosting over Dimitri's lips. "I could never deny you."

Just one more push forward, and the gap between them disappears completely. Claude fervently presses his mouth to Dimitri's, their first kiss already hotter than their firsts tend to be, when they begin making love. Claude already thoroughly warmed through by their game, by Dimitri playing hard to get. 

He braces his hands on either side of the prince, gripping the sides of the sofa, keeping his body encircled in his arms, but not holding him. Not yet. See how long they can stretch out the initial burn before they're both desperate for each other.

First kiss and Dimiri groans low at how heat ripples through him. Can’t stop himself from trying to lap into Claude’s mouth. Doesn’t know how to pretend he’s never kissed, thinks they can just pretend otherwise, and they’ll have to, can call his hunger eagerness instead. He manages to keep his hands to himself at least, sinks back against the couch when he breaks away. 

Flushed as usual, tongue sweeping over his own bottom lip. Presenting the illusion of tasting himself, tasting Claude. 

“This feeling… it’s like a candle is burning inside of me.”

Dimitri whispers giddy and hushed, “You are dangerous.”

And how convenient when he moved, that his shirt moved too, exposing his full chest and abdomen. Allowing Claude to see how it raises and falls with his excited breaths. 

"Only a candle?" he murmurs once they part for breath, saliva connecting their lips. "Hh, we'll have to fix that. I must be losing my touch…"

He leans back in for another kiss, greedily drinking Dimitri in. Pressing him into the couch cushions with the weight of Claude's body. It's strange, whenever they get a chance to play-act like this, when they pretend they're just meeting for the first time. It's as though Claude remembers all over again how wonderful, how exciting, just kissing Dimitri can be, even though of course he's never forgotten. 

"Have you ever been with a man before, milord?" His hand hovers over Dimitri's bare chest, his mouth already watering with the urge to let his hands start exploring. "Or will I be your first tutor in something so… scandalous?"

“Mmm…”

There’s nothing better than having Claude on top of him. His emotional security blanket when he was younger, and now, he craves to be pinned beneath him, surrounded by his husband’s scent and image. Many of his concerns from before have melted away, leaving Dimitri free to float in the comfort of this moment. 

Say cheesy lines for the thrill of it, knowing Claude will continue to play along. “I am untouched…” and ripe for the taking. “There’s so much I don’t know.”

And all right, he feels ridiculous when he flutters his lashes on purpose, but he hopes Claude is too pre-heated to laugh at him. “Do you still want to keep me company?” 

He can't help the way he grins at Dimitri's little act. So virginal and innocent in a way he never was, when they were boys… Claude remembers, with a surge of fondness, the night Dimitri had first climbed atop him as they ground their hips together, determination in his steely blue eyes. The first time Dimitri had swallowed Claude down with an eagerness that had frightened him, at the time.

His husband has gotten much better at acting. He'll be sure to compliment him on it once they've finished their game.

He's able to pass the grin off as a smirk. The rogue enchanted by the prince's inexperience.

"Nothing would please me more." Kisses Dimitri again, slow as syrup. "But you must let me know if I do something that frightens you, milord." Partly a line, partly a reminder of the color system they'd agreed to use. "I would hate to disrupt your delicate sensibilities." 

And he wastes no more time in touching Dimitri, letting his chest push into Claude's hands with every breath, thumbnail tracing around the bud of one nipple.

There has never been a delicate anything about Dimitri and he should laugh but the tiny part of him that yearns to feel the opposite makes him shiver, openly squirm under Claude. Why this fantasy appeals to him so precisely, being at his mercy for wicked delights, easily charmed and weak to his advances, his virtue ready to be plucked with his skillful fingers.

Knowing he is in full control if he is frightened but allowed to pretend otherwise, let Claude surprise him and love him however he decides.

Dimitri moans into the slow kiss, bosom rising to meet Claude's hands. Relieved he is allowed to touch now. His hands fall on Claude's shoulders and biceps. Fingers squeezing his shape, emphasizing the muscle in his arms. A prince entranced with a gentleman rogue's natural talents.

No pretending on Dimitri's part when he has always admired Claude's strength, attracted to the flex of his muscles when drawing back his bow, the strength he shows in tumbling and rough housing with Dimitri. Dimitri will always be stronger, it's simply their reality, but to fall in his arms and know comfort in them, the grip of his hands, and the power that rests in his legs that allowed him to carry Dimitri twice so far -

Oh, he starts to thicken from that memory. Squirms needy and noisy under Claude. Not begging to be touched, not yet, but startled by the heat crackling in his body.

He feels Dimitri sigh into his mouth, a needy little sound, and he responds by kissing him again. Deeper. Hungrier. Wanting to hear Dimitri make that noise again, just for him. Touching him all over, tracing his ribs and his collarbone, as though trying to learn his shape all over again.

"That's it, lordling," he purrs, trying to keep his role intact for Dimitri. Keeping control, being seductive, all with the hope of thrilling him. "So eager for me… Mmm, I can already tell."

His fingertips trace his lower abdomen, not missing the subtly growing bulge between Dimitri's legs. Trying to decide how best to keep teasing him, to keep their game going.

“Mmm… Oh…” Claude has a way of kissing him like he’s supper and Dimitri is all he needs to sustain himself. He mewls sweet into his mouth, noisy by nature, no need to pretend, when he’s already running hot. Shivering under wandering fingertips, following the path his blood takes to fill his cock. 

“Yes.” His hands fuss and paw at Claude’s back. “What should I do?” He looks up at Claude flushed pretty and pink, not sure what expression he’s making, but his honest hunger shines through. How delighted he is by Claude’s efforts. “I’m not used to these feelings…”

An embarrassed smile slips out. Another crack in his act. 

Well, he knew to expect them at least. 

“The things I want… I’ve never been able to ask for them.”

A little truth is a must for any act, right? 

He knows this part is no line, at least not the way Dimitri's bashful virgin act is. Still remembers the boy who had sobbed in Claude's arms night after night in school, afraid of not being strong enough to wear his father's crown. Afraid that allowing Claude to hold him marked him as unforgivably weak.

"Then ask me." His fingertips slide under the loose band of Dimitri's trousers, no laces to contend with, creeping ever closer to his cock. "You have nothing to prove to me. Anything you have ever been too afraid to ask for…" 

He smiles, lowering his eyes, adding his own truth to the tale they are spinning together.

"The moment I saw you, I knew I had to have you. I came seeking treasure, but nothing shines as brightly as you. I have never wanted any quarry as badly as I want you. Dimitri…"

He’s so glad they kept their real names, even if it means Claude’s words bring a sharp moistness to Dimitri’s eyes, especially if it means Claude’s words heal his bruised and battered heart. The hand creeping between his legs and the hungry smile make his heart pound but in play or not, it is always Claude’s words that leave Dimitri weak.

It’s not his first time being taken, in fact he was frank and direct the first time Claude made his home inside him… but it’s fun to pretend, to say cheesy words for the thrill of it.

He leans up to kiss Claude first, fingers tugging his collar down, confident like his husband.

“Please ravish me.” New heat touches his skin. He yearns to rub his hardening cock against his hand, his belly. “I want to be used.” And he can’t help being bold, being too sincere, “You’re the only one I want, Claude.”

"Ohh…" He can't help the way he leans in to kiss him again, matching Dimitri's boldness pound for pound. His hand sliding even further down to wrap around Dimitri's cock, still inside his trousers, feeling the way he thickens in Claude's palm. This proof of how badly Dimitri wants him always takes his breath away, no matter the situation. 

"That's it," he breathes between fierce kisses, making a space between Dimitri's legs for himself, pushing his knees back so they can lie hip to hip, chest to chest. Claude atop Dimitri, his free hand tangled in his hair. "You're doing so well, Dimitri. So good for me…" 

He nips at those lips he so adores, feeling them grow warm and swollen from his attentions. Unable to stop himself from making out with Dimitri on the sofa, feeling distinctly naughty.

"I will need to undress you," he tells the prince. "Would you care to undress me?"

“Yes,” Dimitri answers without thinking. Already oozing into a puddle with his legs open for Claude’s hips. Always a lush for kisses, his cock grows in Claude’s hand with every press of his lips. Hips rock up eagerly before he can stop himself, “I want to see you.” Wants to watch him take him while looking so handsome, so strong. 

But he can’t help sparing a glance to the windows facing them. Even knowing they are miles out from any traveling roads, he is made aware of them, how the sun still bathes the trees in golden light. 

Tension pinches in his face, though Dimitri tries his best to move past it. His eyes find Claude again and he licks his lips. “I’ve… never been able to look so freely before.”

His hands follow down the curve of Claude’s back, over his backside to settle at his hips. Wonders if he’s being too bold and throws the thought away, because this is their play, and there is no rulebook to follow. One hand smooths over to palm Claude’s cock, feeling the shape waiting for him.

Dimitri groans in his throat, unable to help himself. 

Dimitri's fingers trace his shape, and he moans, trying to hold back from riding Dimitri's hand to completion. Like it's all he needs to feel whole.

He doesn't miss the way Dimitri's eyes slide to the open window, the worry that flickers across his expression. It's subtle enough that almost anyone else might miss it… but not Claude. 

"No one will find us, milord," he breathes, still holding Dimitri close, their hips pressing together. Moving his hips slowly against Dimitri's cock, still loving to grind on him just as much as he did when they were young. "No one to interrupt us… If you like, you can pretend your virtue remains intact, should anyone ask."

He grins before leaning in, whispering into Dimitri's ear, "Love getting to see you like this, see all of you shining in the daylight for me."

The pressure of his hips steals Dimitri’s voice. Helpless to do anything but shudder under him, he moans softly, clutching at his sides. No matter how much time has passed and all the ways they’ve learned to explore one another, Dimitri is undone easily by this sweet grind. Loves when Claude is flirty and sly, when he approaches Dimitri only to wrap his arms around him and roll his hips slowly and sure against him.

His toes curl. His eyes squeeze shut at Claude’s out of scene whisper. Unfair, he wants to whine. How is he supposed to pretend anymore? When all he wants is to be properly filled and owned. 

He finally finds his voice with a groan that sounds like Claude’s name. “I need you.” Expression feverish, he bucks up against Claude. Breath hot on his cheek. “I don’t want to wait anymore.” 

"Oh, Dima-- Dimitri," he stutters, quickly falling out of the fantasy they've built in the face of his husband's neediness. "I'll give you what you need, sweetheart. Milord. Um." He can't help the self-conscious way he laughs. Not able to trust his words to be smooth and silky anymore like the rogue he's supposed to be. "I'll just…"

He takes Dimitri by the hips, yanking him downward so that he's flat on his back on the sofa, thighs still wrapped around Claude's. Another swift movement and he's yanked down Dimitri's trousers by the back, leaving his ass hanging out while the fabric still covers his legs.

"Is this where you want me?" he breathes, face still close to Dimitri's as he palms his erection in the front, gently kneading the flesh and making Dimitri moan. Knowing they could rock together and quickly find their way to release without ever fully undressing. "Or… here?" A fingertip finds its way to his cleft, covering the puckered skin of his opening. Knowing he's an incorrigible tease...but knowing, just as well, that Dimitri (the real Dimitri, not the false innocent prince) loves him dearly for it.

“Guuhn,” is Dimitri’s intelligent reply. Startled by how exposed he feels, disheveled and bare-assed on a sofa in broad daylight, something he never would have agreed to a year prior. There’s a flicker of thought, a brief out of body experience he’s become accustomed to since the tragedy, where he is looking in on this scene, and shocked to find he recognizes himself. Not the man playing at the inexperienced prince but the husband and king who is beside himself with desire. No urge to cover up his heated flesh, only a loose mouth and clumsy hands holding onto Claude.

“Forget pretending,” all deep voiced need, looking ready to flip Claude over and ride him like a stallion if he doesn’t make a move soon. Why must his hunger for his husband’s flesh be like that of a hellbeast? Relentless and all consuming. He pulls down Claude into a hot kiss, cock twitching between them. “I need you to fill me.” 

He can’t help whining, “I’m yours, so fuck me!”

Ah, now this is the man he recognizes. The one he loves above all others. 

"You are mine," he agrees, throaty as anything, fumbling with the front of his own pants to open his fly, his stiff cock poking through the gap in the fabric. "Nnnh… my darling. My crown jewel…" 

He paws at the ground for a moment, looking for where Dimitri stashed the lube, before spying it on the lower shelf of the coffee table. Snorts before reaching for it, dipping his first two fingers deep inside the jar to make them good and slick for his husband. "Mm… good boy."

Then he reaches down, back, to slip both fingers into Dimitri at once. He's still somewhat loose from the night before, where Claude had leisurely fingered him after being fucked within an inch of his life on the pelt by the fire. Still, he needs to be re-stretched, re-slicked, and Claude will never pass up an opportunity to pamper Dimitri the way he deserves. To feel the way he clenches around even Claude's fingers from his desperation to be filled. 

He’s not so far gone he misses that snort. Huffs out: “You said to keep it close -- aa, _ohhh._ ” His head rolls back, exposing the long line of his blush burned throat. There’s no resistance to Claude’s entry, tension only coming from Dimitri’s fingers hungrily clutching at him, his hips rocking to rub those fingers even more deliciously inside of him. Just like last night but more eager now, his cock bobbing red and wet between them. 

“You were so --” He cuts himself off with a gasp when Claude’s fingers curl. “S-So far away, I couldn’t stand it.” His legs squeeze Claude tighter, clear in his message to keep him in place. “Claude…” After the struggle to keep himself tempered he has nothing left in him to keep quiet, couldn’t hope to lie still and pliant. 

Can only be this lustful creature anticipating the stretch of his husband’s cock, free to be so wanton after many happy months of being married, being loved. 

Believing their bedroom the only safe place to delight one another, Dimitri is happy to have been proven wrong. Rolls his hips with purpose and begs for more, more, more.

"I know." He kisses Dimitri in a fever, moving with him, always willing to meet Dimitri where he is. "I'm here right now, sweetness. Right here, so close to you. Mm, want to be closer…"

Satisfied that he has stretched Dimitri enough, he withdraws his fingers, noting Dimitri's impatient whine as he slicks his fingers once again, pumping his erection in his slippery fist. 

He doesn't waste time in undressing either of them, noting Dimitri's eagerness, feeling his own desperation. Wanting to join with Dimitri and feel his husband grip him tight. Kisses him again, hard, as Claude gets lined up with his opening. 

"Take me home, sweetheart," he says with a desperate exhale just as he pushes forward, sheathing himself in the love of his life. 

Dimitri is not a performer but under Claude he sings, moaning at the familiar feeling of being spread apart, air driven from his lungs with Claude’s first push. Twenty four and already a connoisseur of his husband’s cock, he no longer wastes any time in denying himself, has spent too many years believing his appetites made him weak only to find with Claude he has never felt so whole.

It’s so easy to open for him, easy as breathing, and Dimitri’s walls hold him tight. His movements are restricted by his pant legs but it doesn’t stop the short stuttery rock of his hips, all too prepared to ride his husband’s cock. “Oh, darling. Wanted, hhn, this so much. I saw you in your boots and, and, ah.” His fingers dig into his waistcoat as he adjusts to being so blissfully full. “That was enough,” he laughs, silly and amorous. 

Ever the easy companion in bed, he nuzzles against Claude’s cheek. Warms him with the heat of his blush. “Your skillful tongue has made me so feverish.” Hhh.

"That's all it took?" Claude lets out a breathless little laugh even as his hips drive forward, ever deeper into Dimitri. "Nn, I should, remember that, for next time. Maybe, ride you while I wear nothing but the boots, mmm…"

He loves laughing with Dimitri while they make love. Silly and fond of each other, deeply in love with this man who keeps him so close. Always lets Claude know exactly where he needs him to be. 

He pushes the fabric of Dimitri's trousers that much further down his legs, giving him more room to spread them, more room for Claude to lean down and kiss him even while remaining deep inside him. His hips do an intentional little grind as he seeks his husband's prostate. Claude knows Dimitri's body so well by now, just as well as his own, and is eager to give him the release he craved. The freedom he so badly needs, the same feeling that brought them to the mountains in the first place. 

Anything Dimitri needs, Claude will do everything in his power to provide. 

“M-mm..! You know, oh, I love your legs…” With Claude curled over him, it’s easy to slide his hands over his backside, to the backs of his thighs and squeeze tight. He groans, not only at the feeling of Claude stroking him deeper, teasingly near his prostate, but at the memory of Claude in his new leather lace-ups. How Dimitri had fallen to his knees to suck him into his mouth while he wore them. “Ride me, ride you, whatever you like…”

He trails off into a loud moan when his new freedom allows him to arch his back, shift right where he needs Claude’s cock. “Oh, there, there! Claude,” he cries out, eager to be fucked properly, unashamed of how needy he looks or sounds. Their lovemaking is precious because he doesn’t have to hide. 

“Love you, my beloved. Make me yours again, it’s all I want!” 

Giving up his authority, his power, even his pride… For Claude he feels like he can do anything, if it gives him this freedom to be lovingly spoiled and cared for, safe under his affection, able to remove the burden of a kingdom off his back for just a little while. 

To be Dimitri without feeling guilty. He does not always succeed, but with Claude he is always willing to try. 

It's a different experience, making love to Dimitri like this. Not that they are still clothed, but that it is still light out. Dimitri, glowing for him, every nuance of his expression visible --

\-- and Claude suddenly, acutely, wishes that he had taken the time to undress his husband fully. To see the way his husband shines in the light for him, well fucked and euphoric. To get to see and know even more nuances of his body, how certain muscles tighten when he's getting close.

"Baby," he gasps, and braces his arms on either side of Dimitri, holding him even while he keeps fucking him, the snaps of his hips more focused now. "You're always mine, didn't you know? You'll never have to search for me again, never be parted from me again." 

Kisses Dimitri, a promise, one he knows he will keep as long as he lives.

"Mine," he says, bowing his head while driving his hips ever deeper, right up against Dimitri's prostate. "My beloved. Always."

He was a boy who was given everything but only as a man did he realize his life belonged to his people, his role for his people. The one thing he has for himself, for Dimitri - is Claude. They have grown together, blooming like springtime blossoms, and Dimitri knows no greater joy than being owned by his husband. The joy of submission, of molding himself to Claude’s shape so that he fits inside Dimitri like his missing puzzle piece. 

No one else will ever see this Dimitri, who is prone to weeping, hands moving from his husband’s waist to the sofa, furniture creaking as he loses control over his strength. Whimpering, “I’m yours, I’m yours,” like a magic spell, to keep them locked together. 

His ankles fall heavy against Claude’s low back when they cross. His blush washes down to his collarbone, matching the rosy peak of his nipples. In plain sight, his lower abdomen tightens, Dimitri’s pleasure apparent in every way as Claude fucks him, loves him in the way Dimitri has craved during morning assemblies and nightly meetings. 

“F-Feels perfect,” Dimitri chokes out, moan stealing his words.

“Being yours…!”

Claude had never thought himself a possessive person, before Dimitri. Never had the right to claim anything for himself; even the privileges granted by his bloodlines, the small claim to the Almyran throne and his Crest, felt more like tools at his disposal than anything he had the right to own.

But Dimitri…

Dimitri being his. Claude, being Dimitri's. Dimitri, chanting over and over that he is Claude's while Claude claims him, finding this one place where he has always belonged.

"Mine," he groans again, and their mouths meet in a messy kiss full of saliva and teeth. "Don't, mmph, ever forget. Not ever--!"

He drives home, deep, hearing the way Dimitri wails for him in response, and that possessive side of him purrs with pleasure. He drags one finger down Dimitri's throat, down his sternum, finding the edge of that brilliant blush of his. Visible in the sunset now in a way even firelight kept obscured.

"Love you, sweetheart," he groans, right up against Dimitri's prostate, hearing the way he mewls. "Won't you, hh, come for me, spoil me with your love?"

“Won’t ever!” Dimitri wails, voice thicker and wetter as his orgasm sits, ready to erupt within him. The sofa creaks under their vigorous movements, the force of Claude’s hips rightfully pounding into him. Wood begins to crack and splinter under his right hand, the wooden frame no match for Dimitri’s power with each maddening press on his prostate. 

Their kisses grow messier, wild and uncoordinated as Dimitri begins to shriek, “Love you, Claude, love you!” Nothing holding him back when he finally comes, back arching, trying to impale himself on Claude’s cock for as long as possible. 

He squeezes every inch of Claude’s cock like he can every second out of his orgasm, leaving Dimitri’s legs weak and exhausted but still stubbornly clinging to his waist. Dimitri looks up at Claude, his blue eye blown out into a haze, thoroughly fucked and desperate to feel Claude, needing Claude to spill inside him, own him inside and out. 

The way Dimitri grips him, looks up at him, never fails to completely undo Claude. A few more stutters of his hips and he's spilling inside his husband, his name on his lips, heart pounding wildly in his chest. 

He meets Dimitri's eyes with a crooked grin, still catching his breath. "Oh, Dima," he says, brushing his damp hair back from his face. "I…"

There's an ominous crack beneath them, the entire sofa shuddering, and Claude gasps, taking Dimitri in his arms and rolling them both off, cradling Dimitri's head so he doesn't crack it on the floor. The sofa doesn't collapse, but he can see fractures in its frame, the furniture wobbling precariously behind them.

Claude looks back at Dimitri, his eyebrows raised.

"Wow," he says, and can't help but chuckle. Still wrapped up in his husband, still halfway inside him in spite of his quick movements. "Um. Worth it?" 

Dizzy with one leg hiked around Claude, Dimitri turns his head stunned to see the damage done from his hand. And then promptly presses his face into Claude’s neck. “I’m sorry, I will pay to have it replaced.” His embarrassed words are muffled against his skin. “Oh, Gods…”

It is not the first time he has broken furniture while making love. There was the chair Claude tied him to while he rode him, only for it to become a broken pile after Dimitri was thoroughly riled, all but hurling Claude onto the bed to finish him. And of course their headboard the night Claude returned from his summit in Sreng… Had practically torn it in two after Claude loved him for hours on end. 

He really should know better, how careless his amorous side is. Too weak for his husband’s cock, yet too strong for the furniture he is laid out on. The wonderful buzz from their afterglow has not disappeared but Dimitri hides nonetheless. 

"Awww…" He still laughs as Dimitri hides his face in his neck, clearly embarrassed, and strokes Dimitri's hair to comfort him. "Don't be embarrassed, azizam. It's not the first time, and it won't be the last, either." Lays a few kisses on Dimitri's forehead, nothing but fond of him and his strength. How he uses it to protect the weak in his country, just as he uses it to swing Claude around their bedchamber at home. Held so easily in his strong arms…

"I'll take responsibility," he says cheerfully. "I suggested making love on the sofa in the first place. And you know what? No regrets."

He nuzzles against the side of Dimitri's face, still wanting to keep him as close as possible. Hiking Dimitri's leg higher onto his hip just to feel more of their bodies pressing together. For all the buildup, for all the stress relief Dimitri has needed, he's nowhere near ready to part from his husband yet.

"I admit the last thing I'm feeling is regret," Dimitri rumbles. Able to find his good humor with the aid of Claude's cheer. Gives Claude's torso a squeeze with his draped over leg. 

It is still mortifying to think of reporting this. Save for the bed, there's no other broken furniture piece that screams, carnal desires gone right. ....but at least no one will say anything to the King's face about it. 

"No regrets," he repeats. Leaning back to claim Claude's mouth with a sweet kiss. "The next morning you ask to make love, I will not turn away." He bites his bottom lip. It's not often they have lazy mornings but in the past when Claude kissed him sweet, Dimitri always told him no. It was too bright, too much in the morning light. 

This afternoon he felt - wonderful. Like a dish best served hot with how Claude ate him up.

His mouth does a complicated squiggle of a smile. "Did you know, I had half the mind to let you find me completely bare instead?" His body gives a weak involuntary clutch around the head of Claude's cock. Ugh. He really is too honest.

"Shit," he can't help but swear, just trying to picture it. Dimitri laid out naked, pretending to be a demure naif… "Really?"

Seized all over again with the desire to have him fully naked in Claude's arms, tangled up on the floor with him. 

"About halfway through," he admits, "I wished I'd taken the time to strip you properly. To see all of you in the light like this…" He grins, shy. "To have those virgin fingers of yours fumble to undress me, so eager, so shy…"

He kisses Dimitri, warm, so in love with him, still happily sheathed in him. Used to Dimitri being the one to let Claude slip out, when he's ready.

"You've gotten much better at pretending with me, love. Mm, I hope it didn't feel too strange for you." It is Dimitri's innate sincerity, not his proper upbringing, that tends to get in the way of him playacting with Claude. It is a trait that serves him well in court, and in their relationship; but it does make him self-conscious about roleplaying with Claude, on the occasions that they choose to.

He lost his nerve to do so but he’s glad he confessed to the thought. Rumbles happily in his husband’s arms, at the warm reception he constantly gives Dimitri. It does not exterminate his demons but it certainly goes a long way to granting Dimitri peace, no matter how temporary. 

“I… felt a little foolish at one point.” He kisses Claude back. “Not enough to dampen my spirits. It was odd, to do the opposite of how I normally think and feel.” Well, not in every matter. His hands certainly didn’t get with the program, with the way he pawed at Claude, working them both up until his patience broke. “It is nice to hear I have improved.”

While he is not eager to pull away from his husband, he is starting to grow uncomfortable on the floor. One thought later and he hears himself proposing another bold move.

Bold for Dimitri, at least.

“If you would still like to look at me properly before the sun sets… I would not be opposed.”

He can't help the way his eyes widen, propping himself up on the floor to look at Dimitri fuller in the face.

"Do you mean it?" He holds the open collar of Dimitri's shirt deliberately, thumb and forefinger only, toying with opening it further. Showing even more of that smooth collarbone he loves to kiss. "Because I…" He flushes. "I know it's not easy for you."

He still remembers, so well, the night he came across Dimitri in the bath one night at school, how Dimitri had flushed and squawked and felt ashamed. Knows all too well how his husband has struggled to see himself as lovely for as long as Claude has known him. 

"Show me?" He runs his thumb along that collarbone, then follows the line of Dimitri's cheekbone. "Show me how you shine in the sunlight." He smiles at him. "You can strip me too, if it helps. Or even if you just want to." He laughs.

His answering smile is small but warm. “I still want to undress you.” How Dimitri remains covered is still quite comical. Pants held on only one leg, his open shirt twisting around him. All easy to remove, really, the only issue is the mess he’ll make once Claude slips out of him.

Dimitri’s nose wrinkles as he thinks how best to do this… “But first I should go clean myself. When I come back, I will be bare… and you may admire me.” The time alone will help him steel his nerves. He has gotten used to baring himself to Claude in the nighttime. During the day he seldom shows his skin for long stretches of time. Can change in front of Claude but has never lounged shirtless at midday. 

Claude can’t hide his disappointment at Dimitri leaving him so soon but Dimitri needs to prepare himself. He misses his shape inside of him immediately, unpleasantly cold and empty when he shifts to his knees. Unwilling to leave Claude without one more kiss, he darts up soon after, moving quick, well aware of the sight he makes. 

He half expects to feel regret over his promise but after cleaning himself he is still just as willing. The burns and scar tissue that he now allows Claude to kiss lay unchanged under his hands. His back is still the worst of it. He still mourns the lost vision in his right eye. 

There is a good two hours of sunlight remaining and Dimitri does not want to rob his husband of any more time. 

When he re-enters the room, he is completely nude, the expression on his face ambiguous at best.

When Dimitri re-enters their sitting room, the sight of him takes Claude's breath away. Completely bare, his skin still flushed but wiped clean, his expression neutral even while his eyes carry the faintest apprehension.

Claude cannot help but get to his feet, immediately wanting to be closer.

They've found themselves like this before, but the situation is always reversed. Claude rising naked from his evening bath, coming upon Dimitri still in full dress. Teasing and flirting with him until Dimitri finally growls, scooping him up in his arms and whisking Claude off to their bed. 

He can hardly express how much he wishes he could do such a thing now. If he were only strong enough…

"Gods," he can only breathe. Seeing all of Dimitri in the light like this, all of his skin and scars exposed for Claude… it's a rare treat. One that Claude finds he is not sure how to best enjoy. His eyes roam every golden inch of him, the dip of his navel, the curve of his chest, every scar that makes Dimitri who he is. 

"I don't know what I want more," he admits with a laugh, meeting Dimitri's eyes with a chuckle. "To look at you, all of you, or take you in my arms and press you against me again." He settles for reaching for Dimitri's hand, their fingers delicately tangling together while Claude keeps looking, fondness and hunger present in equal measure.

"You're so beautiful, my love."

Pain peeks through the smile he flashes Claude. It takes more willpower than he wants to admit to take the compliment, to merely passively receive it without actively pushing it away. 

“This is very strange.” 

He holds Claude’s hand more securely. Desperate for an anchor while he puts himself on display. “Truthfully, I would rather you pull me close, make the moment about us instead of me. It’s…” he sighs. “It’s easier to hide when we lose ourselves to our passions.” They become so wrapped up in one another, everything else melts away. 

...Dimitri knows their relationship can’t continue to grow if he doesn’t tell Claude when things have changed. What new paths his thoughts travel.

“I do love the attention you give me. I didn’t use to. When I was a boy I agonized over how you could touch me, when you were so beautiful. I know now you enjoy looking at me, that I thrill you. Another truth is I am... still wondering what I have done to deserve that.” 

His self-image is still tangled with his self-worth, coming back to what he deserves. In this moment however Dimitri is not depressed, he is simply vulnerable, trying to find a place for his foot to land with his brave new step. 

“You wore such an excited face when I told you my plan. It’s why I was able to return, to - show you myself.”

"Agony" is a good word for it, how Claude knows Dimitri had often felt when they were young. In the earliest days of their relationship when Dimitri so often kept himself covered, even in the middle of sex. He's grateful to have warmed Dimitri up to the point where he can accept Claude's compliments now, and not try to argue against them.

"You're always doing such bold things for my sake," he murmurs, swaying their joined hands back and forth. "Even this weekend. Coming out here at all." He laughs, a little self-conscious. "I'm grateful to have this, don't get me wrong. And I love getting to reap the rewards like this…" 

He sobers, meeting Dimitri's eyes.

"But I always wonder when you'll choose to start being as kind to yourself as you are to me."

It's not a criticism, exactly. It's acknowledging how far Dimitri has come already, while challenging him to keep taking those steps. To fall in at Claude's side while they journey through their life together.

Sobering, indeed.

Dimitri answers him the only way he can, as honest as the sun sets and rises. “I want to within my lifetime. I have given myself things I never dared to imagine when I was young. They are proof I can… You, too, are proof.” He pulls Claude closer, to dip his head down and press his lips to Claude’s brow. “With you by my side I realized there was a place for me to stand without having to contort myself into a space… I was never meant to fit at all.”

It is a slow process… full of bumps on a road that will knock the wind out of him. “It would be ideal if tomorrow came and I no longer felt like I had to hold myself back.” If he could leave behind his survivor’s guilt with the flames that plagued Duscur. “I promise I will - continue to be willing and open to your care, even if my heels dig themselves in at first.”

He huffs, knowing how he is. In spite of the many ways he’s sabotaged himself he is alive in this cabin, bare before his husband, and his knees are not shaking. 

“It amazes me,” he whispers, “that we are standing here.” His lips find a smile. “We just made love and yet I can see how you ache to hold me again. You make my head spin, Claude.”

He's too slow to hide his blush, rubbing the back of his neck as he laughs at himself. "I always want to hold you," he admits. To hold Dimitri, to be held by him, to always have him close by. He knows he will never again have to be apart from Dimitri for as long as they were before their engagement… but that time in their lives had still been painful, leaving its mark on Claude. He is clingier now than he was before, more prone to outbursts of emotion.

He is so grateful that Dimitri still loves him this way and has not tired of him yet.

"You've come so far already." He tucks Dimitri's hair behind his ear so that Claude can more clearly see his bad eye, look his husband fully in the face. "I'm so proud of you," he whispers. "No matter what role I had in who you've become… you're the one who put the work in, Dimitri. You stood up for us. You… stood up for yourself, in front of everyone. You wouldn't let anyone -- not Rufus, not any of your father's advisors -- make you into who you weren't."

He leans up then and kisses Dimitri's lips, soft and slow, pure affection and pride.

"Thanks for letting me see you." He smiles again, full of emotion. "Thank you for letting me become part of you."

Emotion wells up in Dimitri’s eyes, his lone blue eye shining even brighter. He is pulling Claude into a kiss, made sloppy by his love and enthusiasm, with no care to stop himself. “You wicked man, you never play fair.” Saying he is proud of Dimitri, not because of his success in combat or his work on the throne… but because he tries to honor himself, the soft heart he alone nursed until he met Claude.

“My darling minx, you have been a part of me before I allowed myself to dream.” He shakes his head. “None of my dreams could have been as sweet as this. To think I would have a husband as loving and daring as you.”

Claude always makes him feel loved, even on the days nothing can bring a smile to his face. When he challenges Dimitri, they grow together. He thinks of vines climbing a trellis, wrapped around one another with no way to find who is who. 

“I am so close to ripping these clothes off of you.” 

Claude knows better than to think he’s joking, with how intense Dimitri’s feelings can be.

Claude leans in to kiss Dimitri again. Just kissing him, it's incredible. Feeling the long lines of his body press against Claude's. His wandering hands, his eyes that are always looking at Claude. Always seeing him as the man he wants to be.

"Mm- I saved that part for you." He winks, always Dimitri's cheeky minx. "Otherwise I would have already stripped for you…"

And Dimitri's other words, calling Claude a sweet dream… He should be used to Dimitri's sugared words by now. They shouldn't be as effective as they are. And yet he wants to - weep, and laugh, and make love to Dimitri all at the same time, whenever he says things like this. 

He'll never get used to it. He never wants to get used to it.

He is very very close to ripping every square inch of fabric off his husband. He tides over his newfound hunger with reeling Claude in for another kiss. Harder this time, showing Claude the fire his love has reignited in Dimitri. “Let’s move to the bedroom. I want seconds.”

Another kiss, hot and wet. “After I get to look at you, properly.”

Just like that, Dimitri lifts Claude off his feet and effortlessly walks them to the bedroom. Light still streams in through their windows, curtains parted open and tied away to take advantage of any natural light. 

Dimitri sets Claude back on the floor and is quick to place his hands on his waist. “May I? Or will you make me fidget with your buttons?” 

"Ah--"

His stomach is still swooping from how Dimitri picked him up, so easily carrying him through the cabin. Is this how Dimitri feels, on the meager occasions Claude has tried to return the favor? Is this how he took his husband so easily from aftercare to their second round, that night a few short weeks ago?

"No fair," he mutters, before rising on his tiptoes to catch Dimitri's mouth again, distracted by lips and tongue. Wanting, so badly, to be the one to carry Dimitri even though it's still a struggle to lift him even a few inches. "I -- ah -- yes, okay, give me a minute, you insatiable…"

Unable to even finish his thought, he fumbles with the buttons of his waistcoat, undoing them and slipping it from his shoulders, laying it neatly over the back of a chair.

"It's silk," he defends, flushing. "The rest… you can do what you want with the rest, I don't care. Dima…" He's already pawing at his husband's flesh, eager for… seconds.

Claude doesn’t need to justify himself. Dimitri asked solely so he wouldn’t trouble his husband with his… _enthusiasm_. He chuckles low in his throat, “Who taught me to be so _insatiable?_ ” His hands move to Claude’s front, where his shirt buttons follow a line from his sternum to his lower abdomen. “Tell me if this frightens you.” Then, like his linen is as thin as parchment, Dimitri rips it apart in one move. Sinking to his knees to better press his face to his chest, to catch his nipple in his mouth and feel it harden against his tongue. 

He pulls the tatters from off Claude’s arms, leaving him completely bare from the waist up. Dimitri pulls away, saliva string stretching from his bottom lip before it snaps. “Mm, Claude. I missed this.” Even while being driven out of his mind on the sofa, that flash of flesh haunted him. Knowing the beautiful tone of his pecs, the darkness of his hair waiting for him. 

Dimitri nuzzles against him, his comfort apparent, now that the moment has shifted from _just Dimitri_ , and now to, _Claude and Dimitri._

Claude swears in the name of every deity he knows as the shreds of his shirt fall off his body. Buttons falling onto the floor at their feet while Dimitri tosses the ruined garment aside, impatient, like the fine linen shirt is no more interesting or important than a crumpled piece of parchment.

"Skies above." He leans down to kiss Dimitri fiercely, similarly dropping to his knees so he can pull him close and rub against him. "Frightened? I'm only scared you'll never do that again." It feels safe because this is Dimitri, the man he loves, and so the show of his husband's strength thrills rather than threatens him. 

"Why do you think I got that nice vest out of your way, hm?"

So much skin already on display for his husband, Dimitri's gaze already raking hungrily over his chest and arms. His right nipple already hard and peaked from Dimitri's attention. 

"Just don't do that to my pants, mm. It's the only pair I brought that I can put on while traveling. We might run into some trouble if they get ruined." He grins, feeling breathless. Made reckless by Dimitri's enthusiasm.

“I would keep you warm, you know. Surround you with my body so no one would see.” He teases, his grin knocking age off his face in a flash. He enjoyed playing the part of the pure virgin, wanting to be left spoiled and used, but it feels better to be himself, to act on his feelings without holding back. 

Playing the way Claude has taught him. Silliness with its own zing. “Perhaps you should take them off for me. Nice and slow.” He kisses Claude as if following his own prompt. “Give me good reason to tackle you onto the bed.”

Sat back on his heels, he looks up at Claude hopeful. 

“Please, darling.” 

Because he’s weak to asking for permission, because he’s weak for the way Claude bends to his whims. 

That slow kiss sends Claude right out of his body, into the gray area that exists between Claude and Dimitri. 

"A striptease?" He smiles slow for Dimitri, running his hands down his body, abs tightening as his fingers skim over them. "Hmm. As his Majesty commands."

They're done playing for the night, he knows, not about to start another scene; but Claude privately gets a little thrill about thinking of himself like a member of Dimitri's harem, here to seduce and thrill. Although, he thinks with a flash of humor, he supposes it's still true, even if he is the only member of this particular king's harem.

He undoes the button at his waist, still meeting Dimitri's eye with a sly grin. Pushes the fabric down just enough to show off his bare groin, demonstrating that he's not wearing undergarments… And then he stops, instead leaning back with a sigh, exposing the long line of his neck as his head tips back and to the side.

"I wanted tonight to be about… pleasing you," he manages. "Spoiling you like we don't often get to. Is ravishing me really what we want on the menu tonight?" He's absolutely willing, of course, but not exactly fitting into his image of what he wants tonight to be.

It didn’t occur to Dimitri that his plan for the night would be misunderstood. There’s a brief moment of confusion before guilt drags down the corner of his mouth. Despite Claude saying this night is for him… he can’t shake the thought he is being unbearably selfish. He has to remind himself that isn’t true, a lie his mind is spewing when Claude is telling him the exact opposite.

Fighting to rip through the thicket of his ill thoughts, he stands up to take a seat on the edge of their bed. Forces himself to verbalize his desires clearly, without shame for having needs. “When I said I wanted seconds, I meant a repeat of our earlier activities.” A tell tale dusting of pink graces his cheeks. “Except without the act.”

Fun as it was, Dimitri is done pretending. 

“I thought we could play the way we normally do when we make love. I enjoy... when we tussle and I end up on my back. I wanted you to hold my wrists down while you take me again.” His flush darkens, a complicated hue coloring it. “As myself, not as the boy I… pretended to be.” 

That role was for stepping into, not for testing his limits. (Not yet.) 

“Claude, I.” He sighs. “I have tried to become a well balanced lover for you but I still, my preferences... “ He gives a short, self-conscious laugh. “They are still skewed in one direction.”

It no longer brings him the shame it used to, to prefer to be taken. Rather, he hopes his appetites don’t become a burden for his husband, that he too won’t one day tire of Dimitri and the way he prefers being bedded. 

He feels silly for having misread the situation, once Dimitri explains. Eager to resume their evening just as Dimitri described it.

"Good." He grins up at Dimitri from his place on his knees. "Here I thought you were going to deprive me of my chance to spoil you rotten." Claude flashes another wink before rising to his feet, his trousers slipping a few inches down his waist, the outline of his shaft obscenely visible.

"Now the real question is," he says, schooling his expression into something more serious, "what do you want me to do with these boots?"

And he sets his right foot on the edge of the bed, the toe right between Dimitri's legs. To leave them on, after they'd so enticed his husband, or to remove them so Claude is bare for him… He'll let Dimitri decide.

Distracted by the shape of his cock, Dimitri is thrown by the foot placed between his legs. Claude’s penchant for moving discussions along works wonders and Dimitri’s worries are pushed aside in favor of the growing heat threatening to raze his belly. 

“Didn’t I already tell you?” How it only took one look at Claude, standing proud with his hip cocked, for Dimitri to want to spread his legs. 

His hand falls on Claude’s knee to grip it tight. Arm trembling in excitement he can’t hide, Dimitri sucks in a hot breath. “Keep them on. Or, put them back on.”

Why is he still wearing his trousers?

Dimitri already came once tonight and yet he’s back to ravenous, desperate for his husband to fuck and fill him again. 

Oh… Dimitri's confidence, his command, in the bedroom always takes Claude's breath away. He's always responded well to clear instructions, clear boundaries, but when Dimitri talks to him like that…

Nn.

Every time he teases Dimitri, he gets teased back now. A wonderful feedback loop that has benefited them both handsomely. Claude can't help but respond to it by unlacing only the very tops of his boots, just enough looseness for him to wiggle his feet free and enable him to take off these trousers that, while not exactly tight, hug his body well enough that he wouldn't be able to take them off over the boots.

"I…" His hands pause at his waist, recalling Dimitri's earlier command. "You said slow earlier, right? All right…"

And he pushes his trousers down, inch by torturous inch, carefully watching the way Dimitri looks at him. Hoping Dimitri still enjoys this part of being teased and is not tormented by it or - bored by it. 

Hhh.

Dimitri would have been fine with Claude tossing away his earlier wish, a silly whim at best. Watching him perform now, it’s hypnotizing. Dimitri leans back on his palms, parting his legs to make room for the stiff shape his cock makes as it slowly fills. His eyes stay riveted on his hips, at every inch of skin exposed, and he swallows noticeably when Claude’s cock springs free, no longer confined. A one-two punch follows with the tone of his thighs, leading into the sinfully graceful curve of his calves.

“Fuck,” Dimitri whispers. 

With Dimitri naked and in the light, there is nowhere for him to hide, no way to hide his obvious hunger for Claude. He is staring at Claude, and Claude… 

He cannot help but stare back. Always enamored by the way Dimitri watches him, like he is some luxurious performance instead of a young man, little more than a boy, who has only ever had an audience of one when it comes to being - sexy.

There is no way for Dimitri to hide in the daylight like this, nowhere for Claude to hide either. He steps out of his trousers, leaving them pooled on the floor while he stretches, emphasizing the arch of his back that he knows drives his husband wild. 

Sunlight turns Dimitri's pale hair gold, making his eyes shine all the more for Claude. He's at his most beautiful like this, fully hard for Claude, nothing hiding in the shadows of their bedroom.

"I'll lace these back up, then," he says, and bends over to put one boot back on, then the other. If it means his ass is on display, what of it? It's all for Dimitri. He does not take his time with this, doesn't tease the way he had with taking off his trousers. But he does take care that the laces are pulled tight, not wanting one to fly off in the middle of what they're about to do.

"Once I'm done," he says, looking up at Dimitri through his eyelashes as he pulls the laces tight, "you may tackle me anywhere you like."

Ever since they were young Dimitri was left speechless and stupefied by how easily Claude lived in his body. Craved Claude’s skin as much as he craved to feel even one ounce of comfort in his own body. To pose and preen… Dimitri has never. Is instead left hot and bothered like an inexperienced boy at how Claude moves, no longer teasing Dimitri but preparing to fulfill his request. 

His fingers clutch at the bedsheets, pulling them up. They’ve yet to break in the bed, so to speak, and here Dimitri is, already raring to go. 

He wants to fold over the curve of Claude’s backside, draw his hands over his belly, suck his pierced lobe into his mouth. Hold him close and love him as much as thank him, for the way he is about to tumble Dimitri. Show him what their letters could not in their marriage bed. 

He has given Dimitri new words for his feelings, taught him how to be crude while still being loving. He stands up at Claude’s prompting, moving slowly to account for the hard cock between his legs. Stands on the other side of Claude, putting him between Dimitri and the bed. 

“Say the word,” Dimitri demands. Ready to bring that swooping feeling back to Claude’s belly. Press him to the bed only to be met with Claude’s own strength. 

When they were younger, Claude had hated being surprised by Dimitri in bed. Wanted a clear road map of their plans for the night, so he knew he would not disappoint Dimitri, or be taken unawares by him. Truthfully - stupidly - much of that had been based on his insistence on guarding his heart, living in denial over the fact that Dimitri had taken it long before their first kiss. 

Now… he does not mind being surprised by Dimitri's touch, knowing it is never unwelcome. Claude had been trying to goad Dimitri into tackling him, letting him make the choice as to _when_ and _how_. But being asked to be told…

"Oh," he can't help but sigh, feeling like Dimitri has knocked the air out of his lungs already. He licks his lips, buying himself a moment to find the right words.

He wants to tease again. Wants to be the incorrigible flirt that so maddens his husband, frustrate him into knocking Claude onto his back in their bed. Perhaps say something like _you gonna stare at me all day?_ But… Dimitri told him to say…

"Please." He can't help how it comes out sounding so hoarse. "My Dima… Please let me fuck you."

“Ohh.” Dimitri audibly groans, no hiding the frenzy Claude whips up inside of him. Never more grateful to have a partner who understands him, who compliments him so perfectly Dimitri loses himself in daydreams as simple as their pinkies locking during afternoon tea. Obsessed with simply being near Claude - his legs tense in preparation to go to him,

only to remember he’d scooped Claude up to the bedroom but not the jar of oil left back in the sitting room. He is loosened now but there is not enough leftover slick on Claude’s cock to last through even the most gentle of couplings. Hhrg. 

With very few words, Dimitri excuses himself, just a moment, to bolt out of the room. Too tongue tied to properly explain, he moves quickly if not awkwardly, to retrieve their lube. 

When he re-enters the bedroom, this time he is like thunder, forceful when he quickly strides back over to Claude to haul him up with one arm and send them sailing into the bed. Left breathing hard on top of Claude from the rush, he drops the jar on the pillow above their heads.

“I forgot.”

Oh, Dimitri.

There's no air left in Claude's lungs between the sight of Dimitri looking down at him, his weight pinning him to the bed, the frenzied way he'd tackled him here. Already, all he can do is moan, arching against Dimitri's weight and tangling his fingers in his hair.

"G-glad… you did," he manages, nails raking over the flesh of Dimitri's ass just to hear him gasp. "I would've… forgotten until the last minute…"

He gets a hand on Dimitri's shoulder, thinking to try and move him, to start tussling with him, but all he ends up doing is kissing Dimitri fiercely, possessively, arching into him and leaving a streak of precome on his husband's belly.

Hopeless, he is.

Dimitri’s resolve becomes jellied under Claude’s possessiveness, wobbly and weak. Unable to do much more than be kissed, kiss back, his glutes flexing under Claude’s hands. Another groan bursts from his chest when Claude marks him with his arousal. There is a special satisfaction in having his belly full of Claude’s seed, watching how his spend smears sticky and wet on his belly and thighs. 

Appealing to the animal in Dimitri who begs to be owned, to reek of his mate. His own cock is already twitching and wet, making its own mess on Claude’s belly, catching in his hair. ‘Guh,” Dimitri groans. Wants to be pushed over, for Claude’s authority to wash over him, to put him in his place and reduce him to a mewling kitten. 

His tongue feeling heavy, brain made foggy with his need to be filled again, he forgoes demands and tells Claude what he wants with his, as Claude embarrassingly put it, spoiled kitten act. 

Nipping at his neck to incite Claude, to give him good reason to rip the reins out of Dimitri’s hands. 

He shivers when he feels Dimitri's mouth at his neck. Is this close to asking Dimitri to bite harder, that he might wear his husband at his throat for the next several days… until Dimitri's words register. 

"Sorry, dearest," he says, blushing hot at his faux pas just as much as from feeling the stickiness of Dimitri's slick rub into his belly. "You're very, hh, distracting." 

Their legs are already tangled together, so it's easy for Claude to clamp his thighs around one of Dimitri's, using their strength to give him the leverage he needs. In an instant he's refocused himself enough to give Dimitri a good shove, knocking the king onto his back and making the bed frame sway from the force of it.

"Mmmm." Claude takes one of Dimitri's knees, drawing it back so that he can fit in the space between his legs, hips snug between Dimitri's thighs and his cock painting his husband's crease. "This is what you wanted, right? Or, no."

He moves again, quick as a flash, to seize Dimitri's wrists, pinning them to either side of his head.

He smirks, still holding fast. " _This_ is what you wanted."

Claude is truly a sight, his boots digging into the bed while he braces Dimitri down like it is no special feat. His arms instinctively tense up under Claude’s hold despite having asked for it. Too many years of training were drilled into him as a boy, told to think of his body as a fortress, meant to be made impenetrable to enemy attack. Under Claude, Dimitri is anything but impenetrable. 

His husband is no enemy and he melts, easing out of his defenses, body settling into bed. Wiggles his fingers out of habit but makes no move to push him or break his hold and start a tussle for fun. Another night, they will be silly and spontaneous, grabbing at one another, swallowing down each other’s laughter. 

Tonight Dimitri is starving all over again. Seeking a reward for revealing himself to his husband, seeking relief after months of long grueling work. Seeking to be stuffed full of Claude’s cock, over and over, and wishing in the back of his mind he had considered his second wind, hadn’t cleaned up so he could greet Claude with his come slick hole.

Hhh. “Yes,” he breathes out. “Your devious hands. I wanted them to conquer me.”

He knows Dimitri could not say these words to anyone else. A king actively asking to be conquered in any context… Claude knows how Dimitri has struggled with his desires in the past, how he felt they were… unseemly for a man of his position.

But Claude will give him what he wants. Time and time again, keep his husband stuffed full, keep him claimed. Let him not concern himself with how a king should behave in bed, but simply let Dimitri be Dimitri.

He kisses Dimitri fiercely, congratulating him for his bravery. Kisses along the sunbeam that falls across his face, the final kiss landing at the corner of his bad eye. 

"I'm no conqueror." He lets one of Dimitri's hands go so he can search for their lube, which by now has fallen behind the pillow. "Just a settler, mm, making you into my new homeland."

Newly slicked, he guides himself to Dimitri's entrance, pinning both his wrists above his head with a single hand. 

Claude’s new home… where he will put down roots by rooting into Dimitri for the second time tonight. Dimitri lets out the tiniest cry, moved by the picture Claude describes, his words countering the language of strength and dominance Dimitri grew up speaking. 

In the past, in letters and plain conversation, Dimitri would beg to be - tamed. As if he were some beast needing domesticating. Claude never hesitated to correct him. Dimitri was a man and needed no taming. If it was dominance he desired, Claude could provide that, as his husband, willing to fulfill his needs.

Dimitri is still stuck in his ways, in how he asks to be dominated. Has yet to fully embrace the new language Claude exposes him to in their marriage but how sweet this submission can sound without violence lurking underneath... He can only keep trying. 

No hesitation when he rolls his hips further back. The pucker of his hole twitches in anticipation when he feels the press of Claude’s cockhead against it. 

“Claude… A-Ah. Welcome home.”

His face burns red but he doesn't look away, lies back pliant with his wrists above his head. 

There is no resistance as Claude pushes back inside his husband, only the soft give of Dimitri's body as he is welcomed back inside. Claude whispers to Dimitri how perfect he feels, how well he clutches at Claude and keeps him held tight, secure inside his new home. 

Their second rounds tend to be gentler, when they go more than once in a night. Their energy depleted but their passion for one another burning no less brightly. Their hunger less ravenous, but not yet sated.

Claude thinks he will never tire of this, his appetite for Dimitri never fully satisfied. Not as long as he lives. 

"I love you," he says, and starts to move his hips slow, letting them both fully enjoy themselves. Dimitri pliant and responsive beneath him, arms barely straining against his touch. "Dearheart. Let me take care of you again tonight. Please?"

“Oh, Claude…!” 

There is no more natural thing in the world than to clutch Claude tight, keeping him where he belongs, sheathed deep inside Dimitri. His mouth falls open as he spreads his legs wider, head tipping back too, as if to make room for every perfect centimeter of Claude’s cock. 

Gone is his rising urgency now that he has been filled, left on his back to enjoy the smooth strokes of his husband, savoring Dimitri like he might the last piece of cake at a buffet. 

“Yes,” Dimitri moans. Practically vibrating from the pleasure loosening and tightening his hips in equal measure. “I cannot resist you, I have never… ah, ohhh.” How could he ever deny how much he needs this, craves everything about this? “I love to be at your mercy…” 

Love to be yours, his shifting hips say, what he chanted just an hour ago. Stares up at Claude love drunk and fever flushed. “When I am in need I think of us like this.” He shudders as he confesses, “At my throne, during recess... when I am allowed to daydream.” Hnnn. “You on top of me, o-our sheets smelling like us…” 

He cuts off with a gasp, mewling when Claude strokes him just right.

"Fuck," Claude can't help but swear, simply thinking about his royal husband, stern and commanding on his throne, knights and nobles kneeling for him, while his mind is full of nothing but… this. Claude inside him, making a mess of him, making love to him.

"You can't just… s-say things like that," he chuckles, breathless. His hips keep rolling, more insistent, rewarding Dimitri for his filthy words. "They put such - dangerous thoughts - into my head…"

Being back home, clearing out the throne room. Claude sitting on the throne, his husband perching on his lap, fucking him so hard the throne breaks too…!

"Fuck," he swears again, pressing Dimitri's wrists down harder as he claims his mouth again, feeling his face burn hot.

Each new roll of Claude’s hips punchest the sweetest moans out of Dimitri. His renewed vigor alone tells Dimitri he’s stirred Claude up without meaning to. He rarely intends to rile but has learned it’s a natural consequence of his honesty. He can’t help wondering, how dangerous the thoughts he planted in his husband’s head are. 

Riding the wave created by his husband’s hips, fucking into him so good Dimitri’s body feels light with bliss, his tongue loosens, begging to know what he sees. “What are you doing to me,” he pants, voice shaking along with his thighs, his trembling hips. “In that wicked mind of yours?”

It’s not like Dimitri has never dreamed of… taking Claude outside their bedroom. What he would do if he had the nerve to walk himself to his office, offer himself for his pleasure and relief… Sink down onto his lap, milking the frustrations of his day out of his cock. 

Looking up at Claude’s heated face, Dimitri knows they are of one mind now, thinking of the two of them and a scandalous tryst on his throne. 

"Heh…" Claude grins, lopsided, embarrassed, unable to believe Dimitri's willing to talk about public sex fantasies already. It wasn't so long ago that Dimitri wouldn't entertain the idea of having sex anywhere outside of their bed, let alone the bedroom.

He doesn't stop moving, but his mouth starts spilling a fantasy he's had for months now.

"We're...in the throne room," he gasps. "Dozens of important people kneeling before you… but you're not seated on the throne. You're seated on me. Riding my lap in front of the same people who made you king-- oh!"

He cries out, unable to help himself, made so warm by the thought of it, by their current reality where he plows Dimitri until they're both drooling and senseless, so thoroughly wrapped up together that Claude has lost all his usual composure.

"And… everyone sees it," he pants, leaning down to nibble Dimitri's lobe. "Everyone knows it. Everyone in Faerghus can see that you're mine. No one dares question you again for loving me."

Dimitri envisioned staining cushions, breaking off the arms of his throne when his pleasure mounted. He has never thought of an - audience. 

For a brief instant, he feels fear flood through his body. Panic and shame flash inside him but when his mind revisits the image, underneath there is arousal too. His shame curls, becoming heady instead of numbing. 

When he was a boy he feared ridicule, punishment in the form of disrespect. Dimitri is grown now and in his heart, he knows he could never stand to let them see him happy. Happy and adored in the arms of a man who accepts Dimitri’s illness, his oddness, his stubbornness, his ugly scars and ugly temper. Who makes love to Dimitri out of passion, never because it is his duty. 

To those who have wounded him, they do not get to reap any part of the reward Dimitri has found for living on and staying his path. 

He is still - frightened, by such an image. He is quivering all the more under Claude but it is something he is willing to try, on this day of firsts. Pretending, scared as he is, when he whispers into Claude’s ear.

“I do not see them. I... only see you. I only know the way, oh, your hands grip my hips…!”

Tears prickle in the corners of his eyes, mind confused but body staying its course.

"That's right." He grinds against Dimitri's prostate, making him wail, tears spilling from his husband's eyes. "This isn't about them. We'll, ff, never put on a show for their enjoyment. But they see. They _know_. They don't get to keep looking away from who you are. Who _we_ are." 

He has no interest in making his words become reality. Perhaps it's something they could play another night when alone, in a more innocuous chair… It's the emotion he's more concerned with chasing, the incontrovertible truth of his love for Dimitri, his marriage to him. 

Claude is tired of having to prove his worth to Dimitri's people, of being seen as a temporary plaything. Of Claude having no value to the people of Faerghus, since he cannot bear Dimitri's heirs. Change is slow to come, particularly when it comes to the people's attitudes. And he has made strides in redefining his office, of doing good for both Faerghus and its neighbors. But they will always have detractors, traditionalists who will wish that Dimitri had denied himself and married a woman, and so Claude will always be a little angry.

But he cannot be angry now. Not with Dimitri laid out beneath him, his body stretched long, confused tears in his eyes. Claude takes a deep breath… and shakes his head.

"No." He kisses the corner of his husband's mouth. "You're mine. Only mine. No one else gets to see this, how resplendent you are under me." He thumbs at the wetness under his husband's eyes, slowing down to let Dimitri's feelings - and his own - resolve themselves. 

_Who we are._

When Dimitri first dreamed of love, it simply didn’t exist. It seemed unfathomable as a child, that he would be happily married. He planned to go along with his kingdom’s wishes quietly, believing there was nothing to gain by fighting them. 

Then he met Claude and suddenly he had so, _so_ much to lose.

For the first time he takes control and lifts his arms to properly hold Claude close to him. Wanting to feel his chest breathe into Dimitri’s - wanting to share their breath just like every other part of themselves. 

“We are each other’s. My husband. My Claude.”

His breath hitches, belly tensing in preparation. 

“I love you, every sharp and soft part of you.”

And then he is coming, muscle fluttering around Claude’s cock while Dimitri sings, cock spilling wet between them.

His husband's pleasure, the way he clings to Claude with every part of himself, is always that final tipping point Claude needs to reach climax for himself. It takes a few more thrusts, but he's soon spilling inside Dimitri, claiming his king for the second time tonight. Marking his place in a primal, indelible way that no one can erase.

He hadn't… been prepared, for how he would feel at Dimitri's words. Hadn't calculated the resentment he still feels toward Dimitri's old guard, the same old men who make offhanded comments about how exotic he is, how accomplished he is for his kind. Never mind the crueler ones who subtly urge him toward one of their daughters with stories about the joys of fatherhood, how Dimitri surely longs to become a father himself…

Claude is wise to all their tricks. Their comments just cutting enough to reach him, but not so damning that they need reach the king's ears. Claude often takes the liberty of subtly poisoning the food of the ones who give him the most headaches, forcing them to spend a day in the privy never being the wiser about who sent them there. 

He's been quiet for too long in the wake of his orgasm, Dimitri's arms still secure around him. Claude drops his weight more firmly onto his husband, head coming to rest just under his chin as he murmurs back his own words of love, of devotion. The thing that carries him through all his worst days.

"I'm sorry if I confused you, dearest," he says after a few minutes. "I'll certainly fuck you on the throne if that's what you want, but. I don't really want others watching." He wants to keep their hateful eyes off his husband, to never let them see that boy who weeps in Claude's arms.

Dimitri’s voice is rough when he speaks, evidence of Claude’s effective loving. “It’s all right, Claude. You only startled me a bit.” A lie, one Dimitri is happy to comply with, since Claude already masked his fear as confusion. He swings a leg over Claude’s low back to tuck him against Dimitri all the more. “I know you have no desire for an audience… We have always agreed on that matter.”

He frowns in embarrassment at the thought of having sex in his throne room. “When my thoughts stray during my busiest days I do not picture us coupling in the same room.” No. His family’s presence lingers much too strongly to even consider it. “Our bedroom, the bath, and… perhaps your office.” He admits quietly to the last, knows it is private and tucked away enough one day Dimitri may work up the nerve to surprise him. 

A day far, far off in the future. 

Anyway.

He rubs Claude’s back, plays with the sweaty hair at the nape of his neck. “Earlier, I thought we were… talking. The way we do sometimes.” Like the night they pretended they were going to get Dimitri pregnant. Dimitri cannot remember how it started but they enjoyed it at the time, deciding shortly after it was not something they needed to repeat. 

“I have no desire to share you or the way your face goes slack when you relax for me…” The few times in Claude’s life where he is not composed, not wearing a mask, radiating vulnerability so strong Dimitri refuses to be even an inch away from him. 

“It’s all right,” Dimitri reassures, now that his own heart has ceased pounding. 

He smiles, hidden from view in Dimitri's neck. "We were," he assures his husband. "I just. Wanted to check." 

Claude's office… He cannot help but recall his husband's youthful fantasy of going down on Claude in the library at Garreg Mach, the same spot he'd later proposed to Claude. He can't help but feel excited at the thought of Dimitri coming to make love to Claude at the end of a long day of paperwork, finally making his fantasy real after years of daydreams.

He nuzzles Dimitri's chin with the top of his head, his hands stroking Dimitri's sides before finally wriggling one arm under his body, pulling him close.

"You really are too good to me. I just hope I was able to return the favor."

“You did. Twice over, in fact.” Claude will feel how Dimitri rumbles under him, beyond pleased. A moment later he’ll hear his stomach rumble too. Geez. 

“You know,” Dimitri chuckles, afterglow easing his self-consciousness. “When we were boys and you would misbehave, trying to convince me sex counted as exercise to get out of training, I never wanted to hear it. It seems you were right all along.”

He kisses the top of Claude’s head affectionately. Not yet ready to leave the bed but idly dreaming of roasting meat over their fire. “Tonight, this weekend, has been so lovely, darling. I feel closer to you than ever before… I could never ask for a better gift.”

Hugging Claude tight in return, Dimitri sighs, “Thank you, Claude.”

Claude makes a pleased little hum in the back of his throat, trailing kisses along Dimitri's collarbone as he enjoys being held, Dimitri clinging to him like a limpet.

"You're welcome," he chuckles. "Ah, I don't want to wait another year for our next getaway weekend. What would you say to letting ourselves have this, oh, twice every year?"

Certainly not unreasonable for royalty; his father takes weeks off at a time, when Almyran court is out of session. But convincing Dimitri to take this weekend at all was a battle, one he doesn't want to have to keep fighting every time one of them needs a break. 

What sort of husband is he if he doesn't look out for every angle of his husband's well-being, after all?

Falling silent, Dimitri digests Claude’s words in the privacy of his own mind. 

He was not… pleasant while making plans for this weekend. If Claude is pushy and double tongued, Dimitri is the stubborn bull digging in his hoofs, nostrils flaring. Even after admitting to wanting to go away with Claude, it had been a struggle for him to take the time. 

Now at the end of their second night, Dimitri is beyond humbled by how… nourished he feels. They have shared childhood stories, fears going forward in Dimitri’s rule, board games and brain teasers. Indulgent meals in bed, sitting in the sauna, and making love in all sorts of ways. 

...it disturbs him to think he almost short-changed Claude this. 

His husband who works just as hard as Dimitri, who even Dimitri scolds for getting the proper amount of sleep… He still grapples with caring for himself. Cannot pretend this one weekend has cured him and from now on he will think he deserves any passing thought of taking care of himself. 

But he can no longer think of only himself. He must think of Claude and how starving himself, starves Claude too. He can’t keep hurting his husband with his stubbornness, his inability to - relax. 

“...how about once a season?”

Four times a year. 

His heart beats like mad waiting for Claude’s answer. 

Claude can't help the way his eyes widen at Dimitri's counteroffer. His head pops up so he can look Dimitri full in the face.

"Really?" His expression melts, nothing but delighted. "You mean it?"

Unlike his husband, Claude does not overwork himself out of a sense of duty. Rather, he often gets too caught up in his latest project, almost consumed by it, which sometimes leads to him losing all track of time, neglecting to take regular meals or get to bed at a reasonable hour. At least, not without Dimitri dragging him there. 

This weekend has been fantastic for him. An excuse to disengage from work and be present with his husband in a way he knows - shamefully - he hasn't been for a few weeks. Getting to know Dimitri inside and out all over again… and sharing himself, too. 

To get this four times a year…!

"Oh…!" Claude swoops in to pepper kisses all over Dimitri's face, making sure several land on his lips. "If you mean it, of course! Ah, there are so many places we could visit in a 'nonofficial capacity,' if you wanted," Claude's eyes shining as he thinks of them going undercover, just two men on holiday and not a visiting king and his consort. "So many cute villages in the south, such a nice coastline in the west…" 

He pauses, and meets Dimitri's eye with a flush.

"I could show you the village in Almyra where I was born, if we can spare a few extra days for travel."

He'd moved to the royal palace in the capital when he was about seven or eight, but Claude's earliest memories are of a little boy named Khalid practicing his letters in the mud, living in a border town just far enough removed from the war that they wouldn't have to flee. 

Claude has come a long way from that little boy, but a piece of his heart will always live in that dusty little town. 

In the face of Claude’s joy, Dimitri is thunderstruck. Almost paralyzed, he is afraid to blink and miss the way Claude brightfully plans for their future excursions. 

He snaps out of his daze when Claude mentions his birthplace. Recalls their conversation during the Millenium Festival, asking if Claude would be alright tying himself down to Dimitri in Faerghus, and his easy reply that he’d already chosen his path, would be content to bring Dimitri to visit one day instead.

“There is nothing I want more than to see the village that housed you.” He smiles fondly, falling in love all over again when Claude’s eyes meet his. He looks so young, so happy… Younger now, in some ways, than he was when they were in school. “I will trust your judgement on when it is best to go.”

Traveling outside of Fodlan will make it easier too, for Dimitri to tuck his title aside, simply play the part of a lover visiting his husband’s fatherland. “If you name the days, I will find them for us.”

And in that time Dimitri will work on his problem… and learn to give the people around him who think themselves so competent the work they must be chomping at the bit for. 

They've both been through so much in their lives. Claude cannot help but wonder if their experiences and responsibilities have aged them prematurely, robbed them of their chance to be young together. 

He would never trade his chance to make a better world for a lifetime of youthful frivolity… but Claude thinks that more vacations like this will go a long way to keeping his husband hale and healthy.

And his little hometown… "I'd love to show it to you." He smiles, purely happy in Dimitri's arms, already daydreaming about such a treat. Retreading the steps he took as a child. Taking Dimitri to see the souk he'd gotten lost in, time and again. Meeting the people there who still remember him, being able to introduce them to the man he loves.

He will never regret leaving Almyra behind for a life at Dimitri's side, and he knows he will come to be as fond of Faerghus as Dimitri is, in time. But still, he cannot deny the hold that his first home still has on him. The little village at the Almyra-Fodlan border where two peoples lived together in peace and cooperation, allowing him to know such a thing was possible.

He kisses Dimitri once more, deep and appreciative, before laying on his chest again, purely content.

He's looking forward to their next journey already.

"Then it's decided." 

Dimitri sighs, content too, to lie like this a while longer. At some point Claude softens enough to slip out, and Dimitri weathers through the separation with his arms and legs around Claude instead. He is full of dreams of their future but dreams too, for their evening. 

Unlacing Claude's boots and setting them aside. Bathing together with drops of their favorite oil blend mixed in the water. Sharing utensils and feeding one another with their fingers. They needed this weekend. A reminder that they may love each other fiercely but are prone to being dragged away by their own work habits, needing a neutral space to become glued together again.

Dimitri is not depressed to return to his regular life. The mundane details he has loved during this weekend await him at home too. He will think of how Claude beamed in his arms, so young and sweet, and he will go to him. Remind him to take a break, remind Dimitri how to lighten up his plate. He had learned well enough from the earliest days of their courtship they will continue to stumble through balancing responsibility and love...

But as they grow older, their bond only grows stronger too. They survived through adolescence, five years of loving each other through letters, and the beginning of Dimitri's reign. Dimitri's mind plagues him with many doubts, but his relationship is no longer one of them.

They have worked too hard to come to this point, to ever think of giving up on one another. Dimitri thinks of the boys who met in the library that fateful night, confused by the magnetic pull between them... and wishes to show them this sight. This moment of peace and being, where no words are needed.

He and Claude have become family and they will never wonder where their missing puzzle piece is ever again.

**Author's Note:**

> We're beyond humbled to have been able to commission this lovely scene for our fic from Corrin [over here!](https://twitter.com/diarthrosis/status/1297877417013522433?s=20) (nsfw link!)


End file.
